


wound up

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-14 23:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8032822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The match wasn’t really important in any sense of the word. It was against a smaller, less developed school that had sought them out, not the other way around. No one expected an equal fight, and Seijou was supposed to come out of it easily, with barely a scratch to show it.
Except that that’s not what happened.





	wound up

The match wasn’t really important in any sense of the word. It was against a smaller, less developed school that had sought them out, not the other way around. No one expected an equal fight, and Seijou was supposed to come out of it easily, with barely a scratch to show it.

Except that that’s not what happened.

Yahaba still couldn’t find it in himself, for all his efforts to be a levelheaded role model since becoming captain, to wave away any of the rage he still felt.

It had begun just like any other match. Kindaichi had started out with the serve, the other team had received it - even if a bit shakily - and the game had progressed at a steady pace, with Seijou taking three to four points at a time, taking the first set easily. The synchronization between Yahaba and Kyoutani had started out at a high for the game, and the thrill that came with knowing his team so well had rung inside Yahaba, helping his sets to be that much more exact and his mind to be that much more sharp. But during set two, when the thinly veiled brightness behind Kyoutani’s eyes had dulled into nonexistence - that was when things fell through the floor.

Yahaba pulled his eyes shut tightly as he paused in closing his sports bag. Kyoutani, his boyfriend of almost a year, had contributed the most to a loss that should have never even been close to being in the realm of a difficult match.

Thinking back on it only served to fuel the anger swirling in Yahaba’s abdomen, though, and he shook his head roughly as he slid the zipper shut.

He had worked so hard to fill Oikawa-san’s shoes, and even if he missed the mark, he still viewed himself as being a pretty damn good captain. He was friendly with all his teammates, his eye for technique and strategy was still formidable, and he liked to think he contributed at least a little to bringing out the best in everyone on his team. Even Kyoutani.  _ Especially  _ Kyoutani.

And that was where trouble came in.

It was a player on the opposing team that had killed the genuinity and excitement in Kyoutani that Yahaba had worked so hard to bring out. An angular diamond in a swash of pale sand was the only pillar of talent on the other side of the net, and Yahaba had sensed  _ bad  _ coming from him ever since they had stepped foot in the other team’s gym.

Yahaba, in a bigger part of his mind than he’d admit, knew that he shared some of the blame. In addition, there was the thought that maybe the game would have gone differently if he had warned Kyoutani ahead of time.

It was hard though, in the midst of all the wonderfully executed plays and overall connection on his team, to stop and think about the possible danger looming on the other side of the court.

Yahaba stood unsteadily in his irritation and slung his bag over his shoulder, stepping calmly through the clear changing room that had emptied before him. He could hear Watari calling for him from the bus, and he knew Coach Mizoguchi was going to be in an even fouler mood if Yahaba kept them waiting any longer.

He stepped easily out into the wet afternoon, steps firm and exact despite the puddles littered around from the rain only a few minutes before. He ignored gentle comments from Watari and not-so-gentle squawks from Mizoguchi as he boarded the bus, pressing down the aisle to reach the only seat he knew would be empty.

When he saw Kyoutani with his face turned to glare out the window, his bag bunched haphazardly on his lap, and a blaringly empty seat right next to him, fury pricked at Yahaba once again. Of course the team would sit the way they always did, and of course his usual preferred seat would be next to his boyfriend. But oh, did seeing Kyoutani after the destruction they had unwillingly wrought together just piss. Yahaba. Off.

With a grunt, he dropped himself into the empty seat, glaring at anything and everything other than the boy whose shoulder was now pressed into his.

He was glaring a little too hard, apparently, because Kindaichi, in the seat across the aisle diagonally from his, jumped with a yelp. Kunimi’s faint voice could be heard placating him, and Yahaba felt a little guilty, but still wasn’t able to calm himself  down.

Turning to glare at a bag under Watari’s seat at the front, Yahaba found he was unable to do anything but dwell on the hardships of the day, and his thoughts shot back to the game.

After a timeout had been called by the other team, the strange player had gotten a hold of their tempo and had sent Kyoutani’s spike flying back at him for the third time, and it had all snapped. The excitement on Seijou’s side of the court had vanished when Kyoutani slammed his next ball right into the net. It was a slip up they hadn’t seen for a long time running, and it was shocking, even to Kyoutani. The shock in him was quickly replaced by rage, however, like most emotions were with him, and it was to be the first of many mistakes.

Stupid, avoidable mistakes, and that’s what had set Yahaba off.

“Shake it off already,” he had hissed, eyes darting to where the ball had ricocheted off the wall. He had clapped a hand to Kyoutani’s shoulder, bringing his mouth close to his ear. “The  team needs your strength.”

To his surprise, Kyoutani had yanked away from him, something he hadn’t done since the beginning of their relationship. He had then spat at Yahaba, his face pointed and glaringly focused on the offending player on the the other side of the court.

Yahaba had let that first offense slide. Tensions had heightened lightning fast, and Kyoutani was being thwarted; it was okay to give him some time to breathe.

But then mistake after mistake was repeated, and Yahaba could feel his own plays suffering in response to the break between him and Kyoutani, and between him and the rest of the team.

“GET IT TOGETHER,” he had screamed, right after a clearly receivable spike had sailed past Kunimi, but his words and attention were directed at Kyoutani, who was visibly shaking a few meters away.

The shout had barely left Yahaba’s mouth when Kyoutani had snapped his head around to reply with, “YOU TRY IT.”

It had been so long since things between Yahaba and Kyoutani had been so hostile, and it was almost as if the two of them were feeding off of it.

They had ended up screaming until they were hauled off the court.

They had also managed to shatter any confidence in their team after their overwhelming discord, and the game easily went to the opposing side.

Yahaba’s entire body shook thinking back on it.

Still avoiding anything having to do with Kyoutani, he dropped his head back against his seat with a  _ thud  _  to glare at the ceiling.

But then he heard a matching  _ thud  _ echo from his left side.

His left side - where Kyotani was sitting.

With as little movement as possible, Yahaba maneuvered his head so he could just barely peek at his boyfriend out of the corner of his eye.

Kyoutani had his head against the window and was obviously trying to fall asleep, a deep frown on his face and his eyes shut tight, but he clearly wasn’t getting anywhere, seeing as with every jolt of the bus, his head clunked against the window.

_ Thud, thud, thud. _

Yahaba shook his head in exasperation and returned his angry gaze to the ceiling.

_ Thud, thud, thud. _

He thought about listening to music. Maybe he should put his headphones in and listen to something calming. Like ear-shatteringly loud heavy metal.

_ Thud, thud, thud. _

Or maybe he could strike up a conversation with a teammate. Maybe Kindaichi’s fear of him due to his mood had worn off a bit.

_ Thud, thud, thud. _

Yahaba gritted his teeth. He’d think Kyoutani’s head would want a reprieve from getting beat up like that.

_ Thud, th-- _

“OKAY,” he shouted, snapping to sit up straight.

Eyes from all around the bus turned in his direction, some surprised but most angry from having been roused from sleep. Even Watari had a harsh stare leveled at Yahaba’s face.

However, Yahaba’s glare, if anything, was more intense, and after a moment, everyone went back to doing their own thing. Yahaba wondered vaguely if they were actually getting used to his quirky behavior.

Kyoutani, on the other hand, refused to acknowledge anything coming from Yahaba, and his head was still bouncing against the window, an even fiercer frown on his face.

Yahaba sighed, suddenly very tired. Honestly, Kyoutani was going to hurt himself if he continued on like that. Yahaba watched silently as Kyoutani’s head continued to take a beating from the window, growing more and more uneasy with each  _ thud.  _ After a while, finally unable to ignore the injury occurring beside him, Yahaba heaved another, larger sigh and released his hold on his anger. Despite having only moments earlier wanted to wring his neck, Yahaba reached over with both hands to cup Kyoutani’s head and remove it from the window, a prayer for his boyfriend’s health on his mind.

Jumping slightly, Kyoutani’s eyes shot open, confusion and anger sparking in them.

Leaning forward, his hands still clutching Kyoutani’s face gently, Yahaba placed a quiet kiss to Kyoutani’s ear, then pressed his nose benignly against Kyoutani’s head.

“W-What the hell are you doing,” Kyoutani whispered, a small note of horror in his voice.

Yahaba closed his eyes against his boyfriend’s short and scratchy hair, murmuring, “You might have pissed me off today, but if you break your head on that window, you’ll piss me off even more.”

He heard a conflicted noise from Kyoutani’s throat, and shifted to start bringing Kyoutani’s head to his chest. “And I’ll never forgive you,” he added.

Unsteadily, Kyoutani allowed himself to be lowered into Yahaba’s arms.

Yahaba tucked Kyoutani tight against him, and turned to gaze out the window that had just been used in an attempt to wound his boyfriend’s pretty head. It was a nice relief to turn his focus to something other than being pissed, he thought, relishing the new warmth snuggled up against him.

After a few moments, Kyoutani’s body was still stiff in discomfort as he muttered, “What’s going on?”

Allowing a small smile, Yahaba whispered, “What do you mean?”

He could practically  _ feel  _ Kyoutani’s frustrated glare. “You fucking know what I mean. Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Shhh,” Yahaba warned, stroking the top of Kyoutani’s head and humming in a way he knew would annoy him. “Everybody’s trying to sleep.”

Kyoutani began to shake again. “Answer the fucking question.”

Yahaba clucked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. Then he sighed. “Later, okay,” he whispered, dropping a kiss onto Kyoutani’s head.

A little surprisingly, Kyoutani complied, relaxing against Yahaba.

Returning to watch the landscape roll by through the window, Yahaba allowed himself to relax as well. It was true that it had been quite a while since he and Kyoutani had been so strained, but there was a reason behind that. They’d grown so close after the last third years’ departure; Yahaba being the only one not afraid to approach Kyoutani head-on had made him more trusting, and then, more caring.

It wasn’t long before Yahaba was lulled to sleep by the rocking of the bus and the steady rhythm of Kyoutani’s breathing against him, so it came as a surprise when he finally did wake up, the familiar views of Miyagi taking residence in the window. The weight of Kyoutani on his chest was a bit surprising as well, as sometime during the ride, Kyoutani had twisted to bury his nose in Yahaba’s shirt, and had the fingers of one of Yahaba’s hands intertwined with both of his own.

Slow and warm from sleep, Yahaba smiled what could only be the goofiest of smiles, and let his eyes fall back shut.

But then Kyoutani was stirring in his lap, sighing and bringing a hand up to cling tighter into Yahaba’s shirt. After a moment, he rubbed his face into Yahaba’s chest, then sat up, blinking blearily. He blinked a few more times, then slid forward to lay his head against Yahaba’s shoulder, and muttered, “It’s a wonder I got to sleep at all, what with your annoying snoring.”

Yahaba just smiled again.

Kyoutani grunted, then sat back to peer at Yahaba’s face. “Ugh, why are you always so happy when you wake up,” he asked, a note of irritation in his voice, despite the pink tinge to his cheeks.

“Because I get to wake up to your gorgeous face,” Yahaba drawled contentedly.

With a growl, Kyoutani turned to glare down the aisle at the rest of the team, most of whom were actually being helpful in unloading gear from the bus. Then, seeming to remember the events from earlier in the day, he straightened, suddenly alert. Cautiously, he swiveled his head back to eye Yahaba, who was still smiling whimsically.

“Mm, not yet,” Yahaba murmured, stretching his arms out in front of himself with a hum to snake them around Kyoutani and pull him closer.

Another, yet more frustrated grunt flew out of Kyoutani’s mouth, and he struggled in Yahaba’s arms. “Fuckin’ let go of me,” he growled, his elbow colliding with Yahaba’s stomach.

With an  _ oof _ , Yahaba relented, and Kyoutani sprang from his lap, hastily seizing his bag.

Yahaba couldn’t find anything more dignified to do than to pout.

With a noise that sounded bizarrely like a scoff, Kyoutani clamped his hand around Yahaba’s upper arm and yanked him to his feet.

He swayed unsteadily, his mind still clouded with sleep, but somewhere in his foggy thoughts he could still find it comical that he had to look down at Kyoutani, who hadn’t been blessed with a growth spurt in the past year like he had. With a tiny snort, Yahaba stuttered forward, dropping his arms to nail Kyoutani’s shoulders and rest his chin in Kyoutani’s cropped hair.

Kyoutani muttered heatedly under his breath as he snatched Yahaba’s bag from his seat and attempted to maneuver them both down the aisle.

The last few members of the team that were still on the bus looked on in mild amusement as they watched their captain somehow manage to get away with something else at the expense of their ace. They stepped back to make the two boys’ trek a bit less obstacle-ridden, then giggled amongst themselves when Kyoutani tripped on a bag strap and almost flew headfirst down the stairs.

With mutterings growing steadily higher in volume, Kyoutani adjusted the two bags on his left shoulder while shuffling along the pavement with Yahaba in tow.

Yahaba yawned, leaning forward to effectively deposit even more of his weight on Kyoutani.

Kyoutani heaved his shoulders again, snarling, “I know I’m not really the one who’s up for words, but don’t you think you should say  _ something  _ to me?”

Yahaba yawned again.

Kyoutani growled again.

Reluctantly and exasperatedly, Yahaba slid himself off of Kyoutani and onto his own feet. He sank his hands into his pockets, then kept pace easily with Kyoutani’s now freed angry gait. “Do we really need to talk about it,” he began, staring at the glowing orange of the late afternoon sky. “I mean, something like this was bound to happen.”

Another grunt from Kyoutani had his right hand grabbing at Yahaba’s elbow.

Looking to the side in mild shock, Yahaba caught his intent and pulled his hand out of his pocket so they could tangle their fingers together.

When they were striding together in sync, their clasped hands swinging between them, Kyoutani spoke. “What does that even mean?”

Yahaba looked from Kyoutani’s pinched face back to the sky. “Well, no offense, but it’s been forever since you’ve struggled like that, and you’re not the most in control of your emotions. And I know that you tend to piss me off a lot of the time.” Ignoring a glare shot his way by Kyoutani, Yahaba shrugged, continuing with, “It was inevitable.”

Kyoutani swung his head back to face in front of him. After a beat of silence, he muttered, “I guess you’re right.”

Somewhat astonished, Yahaba peeked at him from the corner of his eye. “Wow, did you really just  _ agree  _ with me? Where has my Ken run off to?”

The color of Kyoutani’s face instantly deepened, and the tiniest, yet perceptible, ‘fuck off’ escaped from between his lips.

Yahaba’s face was taken over by a smile once again.

A quick flit of Kyoutani’s eyes and another deepening of the red in his face let Yahaba know that his smile was noticed. Ah, how he relished Kyoutani’s weakness to his dimple.

“On a more serious note, though,” he began again, tightening his hand in Kyoutani’s, “I’m sorry that the match was more difficult than expected, and I’m sorry I was such an ass about it. You’re really important to the team, and me snapping at you didn’t help anything.”

Kyoutani’s gaze slid to the ground in front of them, and he murmured a little ‘’s fine.’

Yahaba bumped Kyoutani’s shoulder with his own. “And you’re important to me, too.”

The normalcy that had been returning to Kyoutani’s face instantly evaporated, replaced with a bright crimson.

A smirk on his lips, Yahaba leaned over to press a chaste kiss to Kyoutani’s temple. “You know,” he remarked suddenly, “I’m pretty hungry.”

Kyoutani fiddled with the bags on his shoulder again, and frowned deeply. “What am I supposed to do about it,” he demanded gruffly.

Yahaba stopped walking, a blank stare pinned eerily on the horizon. “Ken,” he whispered, “I give you permission to treat me to dinner.”

Kyoutani, who had stopped walking a few steps after Yahaba had, leveled an overly aggressive glare at him from his new position in front of him. “Fuck no.”

Another pout graced Yahaba’s face as he began walking again. “Not even some cheap ramen?”

“No.”

“A snack from the convenience store?”

“No.”

“Don’t you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, Ken! You--”

“No.”

**Author's Note:**

> i probably used the word 'glare' seventeen thousand times and i'm so so sorry


End file.
